Scarface by Andre Norton Page A

Some others of you have felt its like,” Cheap observed. “Such punishment might well be considered a brave show for visitors. What think you?”
    â€œAye.”
    One man or twenty, that answer was a united one. Notthat it would make any difference if it had not been, Scarface knew. Cheap had set his mind upon this and Cheap's way was the crew's way. Doubtless the picture the Captain had put into their minds made them well content to agree.
    The boy closed his eyes against that ring of faces which held no pity. Not that he had dared to hope any would. There was no help for him anywhere on the Naughty Lass —which meant in the world.
    Some time later he was aware of Creagh and his men going over the side, embarking on their expedition against the island. They were in holiday spirits and well pleased with the task Cheap had set them.
    But the Naughty Lass beat on towards Bridgetown. Cheap had had the red jack raised and was sailing in with the boldness of an honest privateer about his business. Any eyes ashore which had marked their coming were doubtless pleased with such a brave sight and there would be a goodly company waiting to bid them welcome.
    â€œStill dreaming?” Cheap stood above his prisoner, smiling as ever. The Captain was freshly dressed, well-shaven, his periwig curled, his uniform coat, long since looted from its rightful master, brushed and smooth across his shoulders. He looked more the proper officer than many of those who held the Queen's commission. When Scarface did not reply he stooped and slapped the boy with the gloves he carried.
    â€œI warned you of the folly of daring to match wits with me,” he continued, “but youthful blood is hot and youthful spirits arrogant. Have you any last messages? I promise to deliver them most faithfully.”
    Scarface set his teeth against the only speech in his throat,

    The boy closed his eyes against that ring of faces . . .

    a last desperate appeal to this man. But that was what Cheap wanted of him, to see him break and watch him crawl and beg. And while he had any manhood left he would not. Though what he might say or do before they were finished with him he dared not think.
    â€œAlmost could I thank you, Scarface, since you have played my game so well. No better end could I have devised had I set my mind to it for years. I thank you, Scarface.”
    â€œFor what?” croaked his victim.
    â€œFor putting a very pretty end to an old quarrel, an end which will be remembered long after all of us are otherwise forgotten, an end which shall live in history wherever men have tongues to repeat the story. Now make your peace with this world, boy. For soon you will be well out of it.”
    He walked away, as if he were extremely well pleased with himself and his morning's work. Scarface went back to staring at the yards overhead, trying not to think at all.
    Bridgetown had a wide harbor and the Naughty Lass found good lodging within it. She was handled smartly for, whatever her crew might otherwise be, they were first sailors, more seawise than the pressed crews of the Queen's ships.
    And Barbados was curious concerning this visitor. From where he lay Scarface could hear the calls of the shoreside peddlers as they came out in their dugouts to cluster around the sides of the vessel and shout their wares. Then Pye went ashore in some state, doubtless taking with him that list of mythical prizes, the best of whose cargoes was supposed to lie under the decking of the Naughty Lass.
    The small quartermaster was back sooner than Scarfacehad expected. His list might not have worked as bait, for no fort officer or merchant came with him, and he scurried into Cheap's cabin. For a time thereafter the boy actually felt a glimmer of hope. If matters were going ill with Cheap's great plan he might overlook his victim.
    But he might have guessed that the Captain was no man to forget anything of the sort. Pye shot out of the cabin again as if the